And All Points North
by Darth Breezy
Summary: In the direct aftermath of the beginning of the Clone War. Takes place between the battle with Dooku and the end of AotC, Revised to include missing chapters and rating change.
1. Default Chapter

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 1**

_Look, all I know is what they taught me at command school. There are certain rules about a war and rule number one is young men die. And rule number two is doctors can't change rule number one._ – Henry Blake, M.A.S.H

"Padawan," came a soft voice from far away and Kampher Lutador, Padawan and Apprentice Jedi Healer suddenly snapped to attention.

She and the other Healers, Masters and Apprentices alike had spent the last 36 hours on a Medi-freighter tending to the most severely wounded Jedi survivors of Geonosis – the maimed – the very few that needed more than a simple bacta patch....

"Padawan Healer..." the voice came again. "Are you awake?"

Kampher - or Kam, as she was known - raised her head and her wide brown eyes met sad blue ones.

"I'm sorry Master... Master Kenobi!" she stammered, ducking her head a bit. "I must have drifted off..."

"It's alright," he reassured her gently. "It has been – shall we say - a trying time for all of us. When did you last rest?"

"I just close my eyes a moment ago..." she began, then looked at the chrono. "Oh my, I've been asleep for an hour!" She stood up suddenly, almost unconsciously, ran her hands down her light blue robes as if to straighten them. Obi-Wan flinched. Although her hands were clean, her robes were spattered and stained with maroon patches that could only be drying blood.

"Can I help you Master?" she asked suddenly. "I mean, I..."

"It's alright," he replied soothingly. "I just wanted to see how Anakin was doing. He was... he was among the badly hurt..."

Kampher thinned her lips, which Obi-Wan found ironically amusing. It was an expression he had seen in the mirror many times before when dealing with his young apprentice, but her next words chilled him to the bone.

"Resting at last," she sighed heavily. "We've lost eight of the Jedi who were brought in to us. Anakin – Jedi Skywalker, was very nearly the ninth."

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath. "What happened?"

Kampher regarded him for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "He went into shock," she said quietly. "Not from the loss of his arm – a simple amputation is and easy fix..."

She trailed off and Obi-Wan did not push. After a short time, she continued her narrative.

"Master Yoda told us that Master Dooku used a form of – abusive use of the force." She shivered. "A tactic of the Dark Side... His heart had stopped... we couldn't – he wouldn't respond to..."

Again she paused, as if unsure how much she really wanted to tell him.

"He's sleeping now," she said at last. "A combination of reassurance and copious amounts of sedation."

"Reassurance?" Obi-Wan asked, confused. "About what?"

"He would not surrender to sleep until he knew that you and the Senator were all right." Kampher said softly. "It was as if he were desperately afraid for you..."

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to look away. He was sure that the Healer before him, apprentice or not, understood the Jedi doctrine on attachments; and yet...

"You may come sit with him for a little while if you'd like," Kampher offered him a wan smile that quickly hardened with concern. Apprentice or no, the young Healer carried the air of authority of her office. "But Master Kenobi, if I sense even the slightest disturbance in Master Skywalker's condition, I shall have to ask you to leave."

Obi-Wan winced as he rose, and leaned heavily on his walking stick. Although his wounds had been treated and were well on the way to healing, his leg still pained him.

"Do you wish to have something for the pain, Master Kenobi?" Kampher asked, concern evident in her features. "It would only take a moment..."

"No, thank you..." he grimaced, and then offered a half smile. "I can manage all right. Shall we go in?"

"Of course," Kampher nodded then paused again. "Master... Anakin is... he still is attached to many of the Meeda devices ... I just wanted to prepare you..."

Obi-Wan only nodded as he followed her through the doors.

As they passed into the larger ward, Obi-Wan took great care to hold in his feelings and shield himself as his guide had instructed. They passed a great many beds, a few which had been stripped clean as if their occupants had recently left them. As if to confirm this, they reached a bed where a young Twi'lek lay dying. Two Jedi Healers, a Master and an Apprentice, knelt on either side of his bed, using all the power at their disposal to ease the young man's passage into the Force. Kampher walked steadily past without pause and Obi-Wan understood that this was sadly far from common occurrence.

When they reached Anakin's bedside, Obi-Wan gasped in shock. Kampher had warned him about the Meeda – Medical Emergency Droid and Accessories, but this was far worse than he could have ever imagined.

What lay on the bed was a shadow of his Padawan. He was pale and drawn, and his right arm ended in a gauze-wrapped stump. Although the Lightsaber had cauterized his wound, innumerable tubes and sensors protruded from it. Anakin's face was bruised with an oxygen mask strapped tightly over his nose and mouth, and Obi-Wan was dimly aware of his labored breathing. So entranced was he by this vision that he failed to notice that he and the young Healer weren't Anakin's only visitors.

The Medi-droid flashed its lights and rotated its head as if to silently express it's displeasure and its hopes that the Healer would set things right.

"Senator Amidala, Schurke Canaille!" Kampher hissed. "What are you two doing out of bed? And more importantly, why are you disturbing Ana - my patient?"

As if being pulled out of a daze, Obi-Wan looked over at his Padawan's other visitors.

Senator Padmé Amidala sat closest to him, dressed in a loose, ill fitting gown with her hair falling about her shoulders and Anakin's hand in her own. The second was one of Anakin's few close friends, a fellow Padawan named Schurke Canaille. Shurke sat closer to the head of the bed with one hand resting on Anakin's shoulder, the other stroking his head tenderly. To Obi-Wan's horror, he realized that Schurke was missing his leg.

Unperturbed and perhaps unmindful of Obi-Wan's reaction and Kampher's irritation, Schurke raised his hand in silent greeting. Padmé however, continued to stare straight into the distance, absently stroking Anakin's hand.

"You both should be in bed..." Kampher began but Shurke cut her off softly.

"Toboo – Anakin - was moaning in his sleep again, Kam," he told her quietly. "The Senator arrived soon after I did. We just wanted to help."

"I know," Kampher replied gently. "But..."

"Excuse me, Healer Lutador," a young voice interrupted them both. A young Twi'lek Jedi, also dressed in Healer's robes had appeared as quietly as a wisp of smoke. "Master Healer Amarre wishes to see Padawan Canaille, and has instructed me to refresh the bandages and bacta on the Senator's wounds."

"Oh of course," Kampher nodded, all sense of formality dropped now. "It's time for me to tend to Anakin as well." She turned to Obi-Wan who had almost succeeded into fading into the background. "Master Kenobi? Will you sit with Anakin for a few minutes while I assist Shurke back to his bed and retrieve the supplies I'll need?"

Wordlessly Obi-Wan nodded and moved to his Padawan's side as Schurke retrieved the braces that would help him walk. Mindful of his own balance, Obi-Wan helped him rise as the young Twi'lek took Padmé's hand. Padmé pulled Anakin's hand to her lips and kissed it, and seemingly oblivious to Obi-Wan's presence, allowed herself to be lead away. Obi-Wan cast a puzzled look at Kampher, who shook her head.

"The Senator's wounds were badly infected, Master Kenobi," she told him sadly. "We didn't know she wasn't a Jedi when she was brought on board and the pain management techniques we used have affected her much more strongly then it would have a Jedi. She'll regain her lucidity after an hour or so of sleep." She nodded at Anakin, whose breathing became a little stronger as his head began to move from side to side. Kampher frowned, placed her hand on his head and after a moment, he calmed again.

"Nice trick," Obi-Wan croaked, finding his voice at last. "You'll have to teach me that one."

The frown became a look of restrained frustration, one Obi-Wan was all too familiar with, having recognized it as his own. "Master Kenobi," she said coolly. "It's a sign that he is once again fighting the sedation and will wake in considerable pain if it's not addressed soon." She closed her eyes and sighed deeply before continuing, now in a much more measured tone. "Please Master Kenobi; he needs you right now, and this will only take a few minutes."

Obi-Wan offered her a wan smile as Schurke lightly touched his friend's forehead.

"He speaks so highly of you Master Kenobi," Schurke said softly. "He only wants to please you... make you proud."

Stroking Anakin's head, Obi-Wan replied in that same soft voice, "he does..."


	2. AAPN2

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 2**

_Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand. -  
Emily Kimbrough_

Although Schurke made a concerted effort to stand on his own, Kampher knew she would bear the brunt of his weight.

_But it's always been like this,_ Kampher thought to herself. _Despite the fact that we are all so different, with different Masters and different backgrounds. We've always leaned on each other._

The hall was dark and quiet as most of the patients were sleeping. Even the most of the Healers had taken this opportunity to meditate and rest.

"Not far now, Schurke," Kam told him soothingly. "Can you make it?"

He offered her wry smile. "Doing double duty then, Kam? I mean, normally it would be Toboo or Gris on the other side..."

"Not always," Kampher snorted. "Gris could sling you over her shoulder quiet easily..."

"And still have a free hand to slap mine away," sighed Schurke. "Especially if it got too close to you."

"Or Toboo..." Kampher giggled. "You should know by inow/i Schurke that Anakin only has eyes for Senator Amidala. You saw how much he mooned over her when he thought Master Kenobi wasn't looking..."

They fell into a silence as they made their way down the passageway, but it was a comfortable silence bred from their years of friendship. Kampher had been nearly five seasons old and had been rumored to have actually known her family when she had come to the Temple. Gris and Schurke had been friends from the Jedi Crèche. Anakin, who had been admitted even later in life, had become accepted into the small circle of elder Padawans soon after arriving at the Temple. They had been drawn together, inexplicably as some friendships are, and had remained close despite the differences that set them apart. Anakin with his youth, Kampher with her almost eerie gifts as a healer, Schurke with his roving eye and tendency to make light of almost any situation, and Gris. Gris was an Eithorian, and their people rarely allowed their children to join the Jedi. Gris's Master Padrone Aliéné had found her on one of his many solitary missions, and had taken her on as his Padawan, and neither Gris nor her Master had ever spoken of the specifics...

Kampher sighed. She missed Gris, who had gone on another mission with Master Aliéné several months ago, and there hadn't been word from her at all.

"Kam, wait..." Schurke said suddenly as they were halfway to his bed.

Kampher turned to him, concern etched on to her features. "What is it? Does your leg hurt?"

"Which one, Kam?" Schurke replied bitterly. "My right leg? Or the one I left on Geonosis?"

Kampher bit her lower lip. "Shurke..." she trailed off, unsure what to say.

Shurke sighed heavily. "I - I'm sorry Kam..." he murmured. "You don't deserve that."

"None of us did – none of us deserved any of it, Schurke," she told him softly and then pulled him into an embrace. They stood there, alone in the passageway, holding each other like two lost children. At last Schurke broke away a little.

"Thanks," he said shortly. "Kam..."

She kissed him on the forehead, and Schurke touched her nose gently. "Now now!" he giggled. "People will say we're in love..."

Kampher's eyes widened, then she looked away.

Schurke leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Gris wasn't there, Kam... She was on another mission with Master Aliéné when Master Yoda gave the call to come to Geonosis..."

"Gris hasn't been there for a long time, Schurke..." Kampher swallowed hard, and once again the mask of the perfect Jedi Healer slipped into place. "We need to get you back into bed," she said shortly. "Healer Amarre must tend to your leg and that bruise on your eye."

Schurke raised his eyebrow questioningly. "What bruise on my eye?"

"The one I'm going to give you if you don't let go of that train of thought, Shurke Canaille," Kampher snapped. What happens between Padawan Chavel and myself..."

"I know, Kam," Schurke said sadly. "It's none of my business. I just don't want to see you in any more pain. There's a reason for the Code."

"That's enough, Schurke," Kam replied briskly, then softened as she changed the subject. "Master Obi-Wan will want some time alone with Anakin, and I have a little time for a meal. Would you like me to eat with you?"

Now it was Schurke's turn to lower his head, but his expression bore a shy smile. "Yes, I'd like that, Kam. Your company would more than make up for the stuff that passes as food here."

"Come on then," Kam gave him a playful tug. "Master Amarre will be waiting, and Anakin needs to be seen to."

Once again, Schurke stopped up short. "He's going to be all right, isn't he, Kam?" He asked suddenly. "I mean – really all right?"

Kampher sighed, the weight of the words on her shoulders. "Yes, I think so. Now. It was close, though... so many..."

"I think you should stay with me a little longer, Kam," Schurke told her in his quiet voice. "I mean, even Healers need a friend sometimes. A little break..."

"Let me take care of what I need to first..." Kampher began but Schurke cut her off.

"And then come take care of yourself," he finished for her. "Supper, you promised."

At that, Kampher only nodded as they made their way back down the passageway.

After promising Schurke one last time that she would return to share her meal with him, Kampher picked up the Medi-Set and made her way back to Anakin's bedside. She found Obi-Wan still keeping a silent vigil next to his apprentice, one hand lightly clasping Anakin's limp one.

"Master Kenobi?" she asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you wish to stay while I tend to this? It will only take a few moments."

"Yes, of course," Obi-Wan replied in a worn and weary tone. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"Hold his hand," Kampher said. "Talk to him, Master Kenobi. I don't ithink/i he can hear you, but still..."

Obi-Wan gave an involuntary shudder as the Healer inserted a needle full of a purplish fluid into a shunt that was attached to Anakin's chest.

"This will help him rest as well as heal," Kampher explained with a slight grimace.

"You don't like this," Obi-Wan observed sagely. "The constant use of the drugs."

"Anakin is very resistant, Master Kenobi," Kampher sighed. "He fights everything, but until we can get back to the Temple and to the Healer's wing, we have very little choice. We'll be back on Coruscaunt within three days. I'll have access to much better facilities and more help then." She stopped her ministrations for a moment, allowing Anakin to sink more deeply into unconsciousness. "Over two hundred Jedi went to the surface, Master Kenobi. Of those, nearly thirty had wounds similar to yours – relatively easy to treat. Fifteen came to us as you have seen Anakin and Schurke, with missing or maimed limbs. Anakin and Schurke are among the five or six that are expected – no, hoped - to live."

Her hands shook as she began to unwrap the stump of Anakin's arm; the flesh underneath was mottled and angry around the various electronic implants that had been placed there. Kampher began touching them with a small probe, seemingly relieved at the results. Obi-Wan sat watching in mollified silence. He had seen many artificial limbs in his time, but never at this early stage of implantation. The alien landscape of mechanical and living flesh gave him a chill that he could not explain and he shivered. Kampher, however, seemed unperturbed.

"He'll lose almost the entire arm here," she said almost clinically. "The shoulder will need to be enhanced to accept the dura-steel and the electronics, but he should be able to adapt fairly quickly to it all." She cast a look at Obi-Wan, who had paled at this information. "I tell you all this now, Master Kenobi," Kampher told him firmly, "because the most important step in Anakin's recovery is iacceptance /i. If you, his Master and father figure, can understand and accept this new state of affairs, it will go a long way toward helping _him_ understand and accept. Do I make myself clear?"

"As an adegan crystal, Mistress Healer."

"Kampher," she corrected him softly. "My name is Kampher. I guess you know that I'm a friend of Anakin's, as is Schurke..."

A slight smile began to light up Obi-Wan's face, despite the grimness of the situation. "Yes, Anakin often speaks of you and the others. You give him the balance of friendship when I must play the disciplinarian. I'm sure he's bemoaned my lectures and exercises to no end."

Kampher laughed a little as she finished applying the bacta solution and began rewrapping Anakin's wound. "Only rivaling Schurke in that regard, Master Kenobi. However, as with all of us, his complaining is tempered with love. Your disagreements with Master Qui-Gon are legend still..." Here she trailed off. "I'm sorry Master, I don't mean to..."

"It's all right," Obi-Wan assured her, but there was a tremor in his voice. "Qui-Gon was a good man, and I still miss him at times." Unbidden, Master – no – _Count _Dooku's words came back to haunt him. Qui-Gon would have never accepted the corruption in the Senate, nor the implied corruption in the Jedi Order itself...

"I'm finished for now, Master Kenobi," Kampher said suddenly, startling Obi-Wan out of his reverie. "Would you like to stay with Anakin and have your meal?" The Healer seemed anxious to make her departure and leave Obi-Wan alone with his apprentice again.

"If it wouldn't be a problem, I'd like that," Obi-Wan admitted. "I think he needs me now."

Kampher only nodded as she made her way back down the passageway, leaving the Master and Apprentice - father and son – alone for a while.


	3. AAPN3

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 3**

_He is an ignoble man who doesn't know how to die. I knew it as a boy of fifteen.  
**-- **_Ludwig van Beethoven, in a letter to a friend

_Don't look back..._

Here there was warmth.

And Light.

_Don't Look Back..._

It was his mother's voice.

_Ani..._

_Mom?_

_Don't look back...._

The light was fading, as was the warmth.

He could hear other voices calling to him.

_Anakin – Anakin! Stay!_

But it was so cold there.

And Pain.

He turned back to the light.

_Don't look back..._

_Don't do this to me Toboo! To us..._

He recognized the voice as Kampher's, his friend, but her pull wasn't as strong as the light.

_Ani? Anakin! Where are you taking him?_

_Padmé?_

_Don't look back..._

More voices, some angry and insistent.

_Let us do our duty Master Kenobi..._

Obi-Wan's voice, clearer than the rest, but full of fear.

_Come with me Padmé, he'll be alright._

_Don't look back..._

He felt warmth – love – a sense of being wanted.

_Stay with us Toboo..._

Padmé being lead away weeping. Obi-Wan's voice again, growing weaker.

_Anakin!_

_Anakin – come with me..._

Kampher's voice, low and soft but clear, and Anakin realized that it was _her_ voice that was staving off the light. He felt – torn...

_Mom?_

_Don't look back..._

His mother's voice was softer now.

Darkness.

It was a moment. It was eternity.

Light. Like the dawn.

_Anakin, stay with us... Stay with me... Please..._

He became dimly aware of his surroundings. The weight of the blankets on his body, the restraints that were holding him fast to the bed.

And Obi-Wan's hand gripping his own.

It was Obi-Wan who had made this last plea, and Anakin felt the love, the need for him to stay. He tried to answer, to cry out but found he had no breath. Fear became a very real, a personal thing.

_Breathe_

Kampher's soft voice and cool hand on his head seemed to relieve the pressure on his chest and he took in a great gasp of purified air. He was dimly aware that Obi-Wan had done the same as the grip tightened on his hand.

Anakin tried to open his eyes, but they felt gritty and bleary and full of the sand of his home world. It was too much of an effort and instead he reached out to find Obi-Wan through the Force.

Yes, there he was...

_Master..._ Anakin whispered, his voice cracking with the effort. _Master..._

Anakin felt Obi-Wan brush his cheek with his fingers and a soothing coolness run through his veins.

_Sleep now Toboo..._ Kampher's soft familiar voice, and he would.

But not yet.

He reached up slowly, it felt like his arm was made of duracreate and was stretching into eternity. Obi-Wan clasped it into his own, holding it close, it was all he needed.

Anakin drifted off into a sleep that was now dreamless, but safe.

* * *

"Is he alright?" Obi-Wan asked for what could have been the third time - or the thirtieth.

Kampher sighed, visibly shaken. "Yes," she said at last, touching his head. "See the difference Master Kenobi? He's actually resting, not just succumbing to the sedation."

"What happened to him just then Mistress Healer?" Obi-Wan asked, in the heat of the moment, Obi-Wan fell back on the formalities as he tried to regain himself.

"He chose," Kampher said simply. "He chose..."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of confusion and weariness.

"I-I don't understand..."

"He chose to stay with us Master Obi-Wan. Instead of leaving..."

Obi-Wan fell silent and distant as he absently stroked Anakin's fore-head.

"We'll be arriving at the Docking bay within an hour Master Kenobi... The Senator- she wanted to see Anakin once more before we transport him to the Healers Ward in the Temple. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes..." he said absently. "Go ahead and send her in."

Kampher bowed slightly, then disappeared past the curtain which had been drawn around them. A few moments later, Padmé Amidala, looking almost as tired and as disheveled as Obi-Wan himself came through them, parting the curtains like water.

"Anakin..." she gasped, placing a milk white hand to her mouth in horror. "By the Gods..."

"He's all right Padmé," Obi-Wan reassured her in his soft voice and with a barely perceptible wave of the hand. "You don't need to panic... He's all right now..."

Padmé sighed deeply and relaxed her shoulders. She had calmed, but was not completely at ease. Daintily, she drew up a chair next to the bed and rest her hand easily on Anakin's covered leg.

The silence between them was only broken by the slow and steady sound of Anakin's respirator. It was the cold, sterile sound - a heartbeat of machinery that beat the slow but steady tattoo of a war drum.

At first, Obi-Wan could not trust himself to even look at Amidala. He wanted to rage at her, tear into her with all the force of a storm on Da'nor. He wanted to scream and strike out – Destroy and devastate and unleash the hells of his heart...

"Obi-Wan..." she said softly and moved a hand to his shoulder.

It was then that the tears came.

"I couldn't do anything!" Obi-Wan sobbed burying his face into his hands. "I was – I was _helpless!!_ Worse than helpless!"

Padmé wrapped her arms around him; perhaps by comforting Ob-Wan she could assuage the agony within her own heart. Her own sense of guilt...

The outburst was short - _Much shorter than Anakin's_ - she thought bitterly, and soon Obi-Wan stiffened in her embrace. Reluctantly, she allowed him to pull away.

"I'm sorry Senator," he said stiffly, and then fell silent again, casting his gaze upon the prone form before them.

"Obi-Wan," she whispered softly... unsure...

"He's all right now," Obi-Wan told her slowly. "The Healer said he'll be all right..."

Padmé only nodded, allowing Obi-Wan to continue at his own pace. He would tell her in his own time – or not at all.

"Dooku..." Obi-Wan spat with surprising venom. "Dooku did this..."

Padmé grasped Obi-Wan's chin firmly in her hand and drew his face around forcing him to look at her.

"He's alive Obi-Wan..." she said simply. "You _saved_ him..."

"Did I?" Obi-Wan asked virulently, but Padmé cut him off.

"The Healer told me." Her voice was soft, but it carried the weight of ages. "You haven't left his side – not once! It was _you_ who brought him back from the edge Master Kenobi. Not the drugs, not the Medi droid... not his love for..." Now it was Padm's turn to trail off for a moment.

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered in a brief understanding, but he too seemed to understand that at this time, some things were best left unspoken for now. Left to be.

"You saved him Obi-Wan." Padmé finished simply and Obi-Wan lowered his head, accepting.

At last he drew in a deep breath and rose as carefully as he could. Padmé watched him wordlessly.

"I need to make a full report to Master Yoda," he said suddenly. "Perhaps you would be good enough to stay with Anakin for a little while? The Healers are busy preparing the rest of the – the survivors – for the landing, and I would hate to leave him alone."

"Of course Master Kenobi," Padmé smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.

Obi-Wan nodded and acknowledgement and made his way carefully to the edge of the bedside. There he paused yet again.

"There is the question of your safety Senator..." he said slowly. "Once all is said and done."

"Jedi Skywalker..." Padmé began but then hesitated when she saw a flash of warning in Obi-Wan's eyes.

"I believe that given the current state of affairs, my apprentice will be more than able to resume his duties," Obi-Wan said dryly. "In due time..."

Padmé colored, but did not lower her eyes. "Yes, in due time..." she replied carefully to Obi-Wan's back. The conversation was clearly at an end – at least for now.

_No matter_, Padmé thought to herself as she stroked Anakin's head. _We have started on our path and are committed to follow it until the end._

She thought about the long journeys that her family had taken when she was a child. The ground trains with their smartly dressed conductors who would announce their destinations... the various villages, Theed, and that (to her child mind) great unknown of 'and all points north'. She had asked her father about it once, and like all good fathers, he had given her a reply born of faith.

"_And All Points North Padmé? Why that is wherever you wish to go – anywhere your heart desires..."_

_'All Points North' – anywhere the heart desires..._ Padmé thought to herself. _Is that where we are going Anakin? Follow our heart's desire..._

She leaned over and kissed his fore-head.

"And All Points North," she murmured softly, and gave a little gasp as she felt Anakin squeezed her hand.


	4. AAPN4

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 4**

_All alone, or in twos,  
The ones who really love you  
Walk up and down outside the wall _

_------------------Roger Waters, The Wall_

__

__

_He'll lose the arm right here..._

This hissing of the machinery - it was an obscenity.

_He speaks so highly of you, Master Kenobi..._

The wreck of the man that was his Padawan.

_If you, his Master and father figure, can understand and accept this new state of affairs, it will go a long way toward helping him understand and accept._

Understand and accept.

_Anakin is alive, Obi-Wan..._

This last thought felt almost alien – as if it had come from _outside..._

Obi-Wan stopped and leaned heavily against a grimy duracrete wall and closed his eyes. On the last of his visits to the Healer's Ward, Anakin had been almost conscious, crying out to unseen – at least to anyone else in the room – entities, until the young Healer (Kampher – that was her name?) had come to alleviate his suffering.

_Whose suffering, Obi-Wan? Anakin's? Or your own?_

Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder at the memory. Anakin seemed to be engaged in conversations that he alone could hear, and one of the unseen participants had been Qui-Gon Jinn.

_Master, he doesn't hear you!_ Anakin had cried, eyes wide and far seeing. _He doesn't see..._

Obi-Wan had placed a cool wet cloth on Anakin's fever-sheened forehead.

_This is getting better? _Obi-Wan thought to himself nervously as he mopped his Padawan's face. _Anakin, son of my heart, you haven't been this ill since you were a child..._

A fevered cry of _Master!_ had brought the Healer running in, but she had paused wide-eyed at the head of Anakin's bedside... had she seen something, too? Had Anakin in his extremis managed to project his fevered visions onto others?

_The world had began to go grey around him..._

A second Healer had arrived at Anakin's bedside, and as Kampher sent the second healer off in the distance, Obi-Wan heard Kampher's voice cry out.

_Fetch Master Yoda..._

As he gave into the encroaching darkness, Obi-Wan was vaguely aware of a _new_ voice, familiar and soothing.

_It's all right, Padawan. Just trust in the Force and it will be all right..._

When he awoke, Obi-Wan half expected to see Qui-Gon's vivid blue eyes looking into his own, but instead found himself face to face with a pair of dark brown ones. He was sitting in a chair next to Anakin's bedside with the Healer Kampher loomingover him, her face a mask of concern.

"Are you all right, Master Kenobi?" She asked feeling his forehead. "You seem to have taken a bit of a bad step."

"How is Anakin?" he asked suddenly as he sat up. "He was feverish... delirious..."

"He's going to be fine, Master Kenobi," Kampher assured him, but there was something in her eyes...

"You saw something-" Obi-Wan began but Kampher turned away.

"Perhaps out you should go, Obi-Wan," came a gentle voice from the doorway as Yoda made his way into the room. "Need time away to gather yourself, you do. Talk to young Healer Lutador, I must..."

He had to get out.

Away from the Temple.

Away from the Healers.

Away from the prying eyes and whispers.

Out.

Obi-Wan wound his way through the bowels of Couruscant and down to the Coco District, allowing his thoughts to drift along with his feet. Soon enough, he found himself at the entrance of a familiar if not often visited place.

_Dur Vis_

He opened the door and spoke out to the darkness.

"Hello, Ena..."

_Poke_

"Hello? Is there anybody in there?"

_Poke_

"You need to sit up, Toboo. Kam will have my hide if she comes back and finds that you haven't taken any water."

_Poke_

"Come _on_ Toboo, I know you're awake."

Anakin rolled his head to the side, then swore as pain lanced through his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Schurke leaning over him with a small cup, his dark hair tousled over his eyes and a mischievous grin on his face.

"_That's_ more like it!" Schurke told him as he gently cradled Anakin's back and shoulder in his free arm, trying to get him to sit up a bit more.

Anakin blinked, bleary eyed, and then gingerly reached for the cup, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was. He choked on the water, and Schurke pulled it away quickly.

"Easy there, old man," Schurke told him softly. "You're going to be all right – just don't try to drown yourself."

Anakin closed his eyes and allowed Schurke to regulate the amount of water that he took. He felt weak and disorientated, but grateful for the familiar presence. He took a few sips of the cool water then turned his head away to indicate that he'd had enough.

"Where..." Anakin whispered, his eyes still closed. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and ignore the buzzing thoughts that tried to intrude into his consciousness, but Schurke pressed him to take more water first.

"You're home, Toboo," Schurke told him softly. "In the Healer's ward at the Temple. You can sleep more in a little bit – hell, snooze the rest of the day away like an Alderaanian sun cat if you want – but Kam will be back in a few minutes and she wants to see how you're doing with your Geonosian souvenir."

"My..." Anakin began, and then it all came back to him. He turned his head to actually look at the ruin that had been his sword arm. The cold, golden metal apparatus that now extended from his mid fore-arm contrasted sharply with the dark mottled rainbow that covered what remained of his shoulder and over his chest.

"I-I don't feel... anything..." Anakin stammered slowly. "Nothing..."

"Don't worry," Schurke tried to reassure him. "It's only because Kampher disconnected it before she left..."

"Disconnected..." Anakin repeated slowly.

"Anakin..." Schurke began, but Anakin cut him off angrily.

"How can you be so – so – _casual _about this?" Anakin snarled, turning away. "My arm Schurke! My _arm_!"

"I'm sorry Toboo," Schurke said softly. "I guess I've just had a little more time to adjust..."

"But it's not _your_ damned arm!"

"No it's not," Schurke replied quietly as he stood up. Anakin rounded on him with a fresh tirade that died on his lips as he finally saw...

"I've had more time," Schurke repeated. From the mid shin down, Schurke's leg had been replaced with a mechanical device, one that was far simpler than Anakin's arm. "It's the equivalent of a training saber, so I can learn to walk again," Shurke said dryly.

"How long have I been here?" Anakin asked, turning away once again.

"You've been out of the loop for a few weeks now. On the rare occasions they've allowed you to come out of it, you've been higher than a farrow bird."

Anakin's eyes widened in horror as Schurke chuckled, reading his shocked expression. "Don't worry; Kam has made sure that you haven't spilled your innermost secrets – at least none that she'll share with me or Master Kenobi..."

"Obi-Wan..."

"Will be back this afternoon, Anakin," Kampher's voice broke in from behind the curtain that surrounded the bed. She was followed by a Medi droid that carried a sinister looking array of instruments, including a rather large syringe.

"No more drugs," Anakin said firmly, as if Schurke's comment had frightened him. Kampher only arched her brow at him.

"It's a very mild pain reducer Anakin," she told him firmly. "It won't put you to sleep but it will ease the pain."

"No pain, Toboo..." Schurke murmured, and Anakin realized that he, too, was probably under the influence of at least a mild soporific.

Kampher only stood there, lips thinning. "Anakin, there may be a shock when the apparatus is initially reactivated as the nerves adjust to the new connections. It's imuch/i easier if you are relaxed, even a little..."

Anakin returned her glare, a look of stubborn determination on his face.

"Well at least I know you're on your way to recovery," Kampher said dryly. "The Chancellor and Senator Amidala will be pleased to hear that."

Anakin brightened almost immediately. "Padmé? She's all right?"

Kampher scowled again, and then her face softened a little. "Yes, she was allowed to see you from time to time with the Chancellor and Master Kenobi..."

"Padmé was here?" Anakin tried to sit up and found that he couldn't. Kampher placed a soothing hand on his chest.

"Hold back there, Anakin, no need to act like a wild beast." she admonished him as Schurke giggled behind her. "She left something for you."

"What?" he asked, suddenly very, very tired, and surprised that he felt so... torpid. He didn't even have the strength to fight with Kam about the injection that she was giving him.

As she pulled the syringe out, Kampher leaned closer in. Anakin found his eyes drawn to her chest and the cleft of her breasts and the sight made him feel a little giddy.

_Should be Padm's..._ he thought absently, barely noticing that Kampher had pressed something into his hand. She closed his hand tightly around it and even in his apathetic state he recognized it.

The Japor snippet.

"She told me to tell you to hang on to it for now - until you heal." Kam whispered into his ear. "Then return it to her. She told me someone she loves gave it to her."

"Yes..." he agreed languidly. "Very much so."

Kampher seemed satisfied with this, and then moved over to the other side of the bed. "Schurke, if you're going to stay, do something useful for me," she said.

Schurke made a sweeping bow, removing an imaginary hat. "As you wish M'lady."

"Hold down fly-boy here for a minute while I reconnect the power to his arm and release the slave mechanism. Anakin, this might hurt for a minute."

Anakin nodded, preparing for the worst. He wanted to tell them that he wasn't worried but suddenly felt as if his tongue was made of duracrete.

"Move your fingers, Anakin," Kampher ordered, and Anakin dutifully flexed his left hand, careful not to drop the Japor snippet.

"The _other_ hand, Toboo..." Kam said softly.

At first Anakin was confused. _What_ other hand? And then it dawn on him. His arm – his _right_ arm – felt warm...

He moved his head to look.

"Move your fingers Anakin," Kam encouraged him. "One at a time, then all together..."

To his own astonishment, he did.

"Very good Anakin," Kampher murmured. "Now, flex your arm."

They went through the exercises for nearly 10 minutes before Kampher pronounced them finished for the day, and Anakin was allowed to sink back into his bed. As sleep overcame him once again, his only thoughts were of Padmé, and he was blissfully unaware of the look of misery on the young Healer's face.


	5. AAPN5

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 5**

_It is with our passions, as it is with fire and water, they are good servants but bad masters. -__Aesop__ (620 BC - 560 BC)_

"Hello, Ena," Obi-Wan began again although he was certain she had heard him the first time.

The woman at the bar did not turn around, but offered a lilting greeting in return.

"Hello, Obi-Wan. Somehow I knew you would seek me out..."

"I haven't sought you out," he began, but it was a lie and they both knew it.

"Ena, I didn't come here for... I just needed to talk to _someone,_" Obi-Wan stammered uncharacteristically. "You know that there are times..."

The small club was ill lit but Obi-Wan knew that she had changed very little in the years - at least outwardly. The woman turned on the stool to face him; her eyes were green and her hair a soft brown with white highlights. Her face was youthful and beautiful, belying her age. As he stepped carefully towards her, she held out her arms in a warm gesture of welcome and Obi-Wan fell into her embrace.

"You need me," she told him simply. "After all these years, you still cannot find ultimate solace with the Jedi."

Obi-Wan took in a deep breath and nodded, then pulled away, a master of stoicism.

"How is your apprentice?" she asked him easily as if it had been only weeks instead of years since they last met. "Or perhaps more importantly, how are _you_?"

"Perhaps there is a more private place we can... visit." Obi-Wan murmured softly. "We have much to talk about..."

The apartment was large but sparsely furnished, and there were signs of packing things away.

"You're leaving Coruscant?" Obi-Wan said. It was as much an observation as it was a question.

"You know me Kenobi," Ena said breezily. "Always on to new ventures, new horizons..."

"New relationships..." Obi-Wan finished for her, and promptly regretted his outburst. "I apologize." he said softly.

"No need, Obi-Wan," she said gently. "It's not as if we've ever been... exclusive."

"Ena, I didn't come here to..." he trailed off, unsure. Why _had _he come if not to... to...

"I heard what happened at Geonosis," she said sadly. "I'm truly sorry. Pour yourself a drink Obi-Wan, I need the fresher."

As she wandered into the other room, Obi-Wan made his way to the small drinks cabinet. Inside, he found a bottle of Corellian Whiskey with a new tax stamp on it.

Qui-Gon's favorite.

As if she had been expecting him.

The hiss of running water echoed through the apartment as Obi-Wan poured himself a large glass and knocked it back quickly.

He was savoring a second and already feeling a little more at ease when she emerged from the fresher, dressed only in a silken sheer robe.

"You still have your robe on," she told him blithely as she sat down on a single chair opposite him. "You need not be so set on formalities Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I just needed to talk, Ena," he said softly. "Really."

"Of course," she smiled, accepting the preferred drink he offered her. "So tell me then. What do you wish to talk to me about?"

After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan began to tell her everything. His discovery on Kamaino, the horror of Geonosis, the pain of nearly losing his apprentice; and while he talked he drank a little more, as if steeling himself for what was to come.

Obi-Wan spoke for nearly half an hour before abruptly, he stopped. "That's all there is," he murmured softly, although they both knew that was far from the truth. His companion only nodded.

Obi-Wan leaned heavily back into the chair, a sheen of sweat on his face. It was as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders and chest, just by telling someone... by releasing it, as it were. He was far more comfortable now, and began clumsily shaking off his robe.

Ena, who had been sitting quietly the entire time, at last stood up to help him. As she leaned over, Obi-Wan gently touched her cheek and kissed it softly.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly in her ear.

She closed her eyes and brushed her cheek against his, not saying anything.

"Sit with me, Ena," Obi-Wan entreated sadly. "I want to just be a man for a while. Not Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, or Obi-Wan the teacher... Just, Obi-Wan _the man_."

She sat next to him and for the next few hours they merely spoke like old friends. Ena told him of ventures gained and lost, and Obi-Wan shared stories of his missions with Anakin. As the hours passed, sharing the joys as well as the failures in a storyteller fashion, as apposed to the clinical and dry reports that he and Anakin had given to the Council over the years, he found new life to his feelings for his apprentice. An appreciation...

"Qui-Gon used to tell me some interesting tales about you, too, you know," Ena told him a little sadly. "I know you resented me back then, Obi-Wan."

"I was a child!" Obi-Wan shot back a little angrily. "I didn't understand..."

"As you feel your own apprentice wouldn't now," she finished for him. "Even though he apparently has taken a lover of his own."

"I don't think he has," Obi-Wan replied glibly, but even to him it felt like a lie.

"Does it matter?" Ena asked him. "Honestly Obi-Wan, does it? We all find companionship when and where we need it."

Obi-Wan fell silent, and Ena moved towards to him.

"You found that out after Naboo, didn't you?" she pressed, leaning into to him. "We needed each other."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and nodded. It had been the first time he had actually gone to her, but not the last.

She moved closer to him, and Obi-Wan put his arm around her in a slight embrace, pulling her close now.

"And when your apprentice took ill, and when you two helped me escape from Kabaira... he didn't know of our – our _understanding - _then, did he?"

"No," Obi-Wan admitted, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her that she was a part of his past with Qui-Gon, and one that he wasn't quiet willing to share.

Ena laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. Obi-Wan felt himself begin to tremble beneath her. Tenderly, she pulled him into a full embrace. Obi-Wan stiffened, and then responded in kind. He poured them both another glass of whiskey, draining the bottle.

"I'll get us another bottle," Ena said as she rose from the couch. "If you have time..."

"I have all the afternoon," Obi-Wan told her wryly. "The Healer chased me out of the Temple." He found that he was reluctant to let her go, and this made him a little nervous. He covered it with a slight laugh. "You'd like her; she's a lot like you."

Ena only smiled as she brought a fresh bottle of Corellian Whiskey to the table in front of them while Obi-Wan finished his drink. He had hoped that the whiskey would have helped quelled the desire he could no longer deny. Instead, it seemed to make it... right.

She sat down next to her and now he willingly took her into his arms.

He took another drink.

"Comfortable?" he asked her softly, as he caressed her head, encouraging her to rest it onto his shoulder.

"Very," she murmured softly, resting an easy hand on his leg.

They sat like that in a few moments of comfortable silence, then very slowly, he leaned over to kiss her. She placed her hand onto his cheek, kissing him back, feeling the warmth of tears on his face.

"Ena..." he murmured, his voice shaking.

"If we have to talk about it, it's no good," she told him softly, "It's always been like that for us. No matter what you think Kenobi."

"I-I don't want to use you," he gasped as she leaned in closer. Obi-Wan felt giddy, not from the alcohol, but from a familiar warmth that had been smoldering in the pit of his stomach all afternoon.

"It's all right, Obi-Wan," she assured him as she nuzzled his ear. "It's going to be all right." She leaned in to him, beginning her own explorations, loosening his tunic.

It was as if his body and mind were two separate entities, neither willing to relinquish control of the other. He wanted her and yet...

She slid her hand up to his thigh.

That decided it; his internal battle was over, and the body had won.

As if released from some unknown, or perhaps unadmitted, constraint, his touch became more demanding. No longer content to merely caress her sheathed breast, he tore the offending garment aside and buried his face in her flesh. He pulled her close, impeding her attempts to undress him.

"Obi-Wan…." She gasped before being silenced with a fierce deep kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as he peeled away the last of her robe. His hand grasped her buttocks pulling her close to the erection that strained against his trousers. He devoured her lips and face, almost as if he were afraid of leaving any part of her untouched, while his hand kneaded her breast roughly.

Ena began fumbling with the tie to his leggings, the front of which were already damp as Obi-Wan had pressed his clothed sex to her bare one. There was no false sense of decorum here, no attempts to spare the clothing and hide the evidence, no need nor desire for thought. It was pure animal lust, the need for physical contact in the most intimate of settings, a primeval need to mate. With an almost desperate grunt born of need, Obi-Wan reached down and freed himself single handedly and entered her without preamble or warning. Ena wrapped her legs around him as Obi-Wan thrust into her mindlessly, emitting grunts and soft moans in tandem with her encouraging cries of pleasure. He clung to her almost desperately, as if she would try to escape, thrusting harder and faster-his foot fell to the floor and he used it unconsciously as leverage raising their bodies from the couch. He grabbed her buttocks again, pulling her closer as she dug her nails into his thighs. Harder and faster, until everything exploded in the blinding light of release and he collapsed on top of her, completely exhausted, both of their breathing coming in ragged gasps.

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan raised his head. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I-I lost control..."

Ena smiled as she stroked the sweaty hair out of his face. "You needed to, Obi-Wan. You'd be much happier if you did more often." She pulled him down for a soft kiss, which he gratefully returned.

"Put your clothes in the chute. They'll be cleaned and returned within the hour," she told him obliquely, but Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"No need to be concerned," Ena said with a smile, as if being ravaged on her couch was an everyday occurrence. "I chose this place in part due to their reputation for discretion. You'll leave here completely cleaned, dressed, and the consummate Jedi Knight."

"And what shall we do in the meantime?" Obi-Wan asked, gently nibbling on her throat. He wasn't ready to go back to the real world, not just yet.

"Take me to my bed Kenobi," she replied. "Make me wonder why I ever leave this place at all."

He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of simply being a man. "As you wish..."


	6. AAPN7

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 7**

_The more alternatives, the more difficult the choice.__ - _

**_Abbe' D'Allanival_**

When Kampher and Schurke arrived in the cafeteria, they found Anakin alone at the

table, morosely picking at his food, and a nearly full plate next to him.

"Anakin?" Kam called softly to him. "Where is the Senator?"

"She got a com call," Anakin said miserably. "Some Force-begotten emergency meeting. She needs to clear up a few matters before she returns to Naboo."

"When does she go back?" Schurke asked as he sidled up to Anakin's chair. "Not before long, I would think?"

"I don't know," Anakin admitted sadly, then brightened a little. "I think Master Obi-Wan might allow me to escort her back..."

Schurke's eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could say anything, Kampher spoke up.

"If _I _allow it, you mean," she interrupted him gently. "As your Healer, it's _my_ decision whether to release you - or not."

"Don't play with me, Kam." Anakin growled, setting his chin stubbornly. "_Obi-Wan _is my Master – _he_..."

"...must abide by my wishes as well." Kampher finished tartly, her eyes flashing.

"What are you going to do if I refuse, Kam?" Anakin snapped. "Fill my veins with enough drugs to keep me desensitized through the end of the war?" He waved his right arm for dramatic effect, and then bit back a scream. Kampher, however, remained coolly distant even as Schurke rose to tend to his friend.

"You should have that seen to," Kampher told Anakin icily as she rose. "I believe Master Healer Amarre is on duty right now. Schurke... Jedi Skywalker..." With that, Kampher made her way down towards the Healer's quarters and away from the cantina, her food untouched.

"I think we need to talk, Toboo," Schurke said softly as he put a reassuring hand on Anakin's left shoulder. Anakin angrily shook off.

"Knock it off, Schurke," he snapped. "Neither of you would understand."

"And you're not listening!" Schurke bit back, uncharacteristically angry. "Kam only wants to protect you!"

"I don't need protection!" Anakin shouted as he too rose to leave, drawing stares from the other few remaining occupants of the cantina. "Stop treating me like a piece of glass!"

Schurke stood up on unsteady legs. Although he wasn't quite as tall as Anakin, he still managed to meet him eye to eye. Summoning all of his strength, Schurke spoke with a quiet intensity to his voice.

"Anakin, will you listen to me? It's not as simple as you think."

"Take your hand off my arm!"

"Not until you calm down and stop acting like you're being persecuted." Schurke sighed. "Anakin, how long have we been _friends_? Long enough to..."

"Long enough to know when to let an argument go," Anakin reluctantly admitted as he looked down at his feet. Only from his friends would he ever take such a rebuke. He sighed heavily. "So, tell me then, Schurke..."

"Not here. There's too much chance of being overheard."

"And you know of a place where we won't be?" Anakin arched his eyebrow almost playfully as he helped Schurke back into the hover chair, taking great care not to cause him any unnecessary pain. "What will people say if they see us going off together all alone?"

Schurke snorted. "They'll say '_Looks like Padawan Skywalker has finally realized that life isn't complete until you've had a Corellian...'_"

Anakin shot back. "How about _'Strange that Anakin Skywalker was the last person to be seen with Padawan Canaille before his hover chair went off the top of the Council Tower, as we always thought it would be his Master who would do the deed?' _instead."

This sent both men into giggles born of friendship where such playful barbs were common, until Schurke became serious again.

"But we've got to find someplace, Toboo. Someplace quiet, I think."

Anakin thinned his lips but nodded his assent. "All right then, where do you suggest we go?"

"How about the North Gardens?" Schurke suggested innocently.

Anakin sighed. "You mean the North, as in - 'we have to pass by Kam's quarters to get there' Gardens - I presume?"

Schurke nodded. "Got it in one spin of the Sabbacc wheel there Toboo. Kam is really the one who you should talk to anyway."

"But you know something," Anakin pressed. "At the very least."

"No I don't, Toboo. Not really." Schurke sounded almost bitter. "You know I'm not Kam's true confidant"

"Schurke, you don't think Kam is still...you know... well, _pining_ after Gris..."

"No – not exactly _pining_ per se, but I think she misses Gris far more than she'll ever admit," Schurke sighed as they crossed though the cantina and towards the Healer's quarters. "Besides, Gris has been slithering off almost every chance she gets. Master Aliéné has taken her on yet another lengthy mission to the Outer Rim. We probably won't see her or hear from her for months."

"And this is a good thing?"

"You haven't seen Gris lately, have you?"

Anakin shook his head. "Not since before Master Obi-Wan and I went to Ansion."

"Maybe it's just me, but I thought she'd ...changed. It's hard to put a finger on just how. Kam was and still is unhappy about it."

"And you think this is the perfect time to console Kam, don't you?" Anakin suggested slyly. "I thought you'd given up on that?"

"It's not like that with Kam, Toboo," Shurke said quietly, and with unexpected seriousness. "Not at all..."

"Really?" Anakin replied, genuinely curious. "Are you trying to tell me...?"

"Tell him _what_, Schurke?" came Kampher's voice from behind. "Anakin, I thought you were going to have your arm looked at." Her earlier anger had obviously dissipated, and she was once again only the concerned Healer.

"Schurke said you needed to talk to me, Kam," Anakin said quietly. "And I'm sorry if I lost my temper earlier, I was hoping Padmé ... I mean..."

Kam only shook her head. "It's all right Anakin. I understand." She paused thoughtfully. "Perhaps better than you know..."

A slightly uncomfortable silence ensued, with each person suddenly feeling vulnerable. Exposed. Despite the depth of their combined friendship and trust, this level of personal attachment – of intimacy – was an area that none of them had really explored at least, not all together.

Suddenly Kampher placed her hand gently on Anakin's shoulder, and he flinched, expecting a flare up of pain. To his surprise, there was none – only a warming sensation that flowed through his shoulder.

"Feel better?" Kampher asked him with a knowing smile.

Anakin nodded dumbly. "Yes... yes it does!"

"It'll only be temporary," Kam lamented. "You'll have to come back to the Healers Ward tonight, but it will dull the pain and not your senses."

"You know, Kam," Schurke smiled wryly. "After sitting in this hover chair for all of this time..."

"I have the perfect remedy back in the Healer's Ward Schurke," Kampher grinned back. "It's called a bacta enema..."

"You needed to talk to me Kam," Anakin interrupted softly. "Schurke and I were going to go to the North Gardens for privacy."

"Yes... yes..." Kampher agreed quietly. "This is important, and I'd rather do it someplace where we won't be bothered." She cast a look down the corridor, as if looking for someone and seemed satisfied to find it empty. "Let's go," she murmured conspiratorially. "We have a lot to talk about."

When Obi-Wan returned to the Jedi Temple, he found it was with a much lighter step then when he had left it. Indeed, it felt as if a weight had been rolled away from his shoulders. Perhaps it had been merely the fact that he had been able to unburden his soul to someone from outside of the Temple and all its constraints – not that he ever regretted the path he had chosen – but perhaps he should not limit his choice of company as often as he did.

Obi-Wan brushed the thought aside. He knew that in reality, there _was _no other life for him away from the Jedi and it's teachings, despite his occasional dalliances with the 'outside' world. Stepping away from the Temple on those rare occasions only served to prove how much he cherished his life as a Jedi after all.

The Temple was warm and welcoming and the Force signatures of the Masters and the acolytes sang through the halls in a pleasing, if not entirely harmonious cadence. He passed by a group of wide-eyed younglings, herded through the passage by Master Leraar Traccia. Master Traccia was a Togruta like Master Ti, and was an instructor of many alien languages. As they passed by one another in the corridor, Obi-Wan heard a respectful, if broken greeting in Nikto, which he returned with a rare smile on his face.

It was good to be home.


	7. AAPN6

**And All Points North**

**_The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends. -_**

**_Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)_**

**Chapter 6**

****

****

_I never say good bye, Obi-Wan._

Obi-Wan lay in Ena's luxurious double bed, alone. Ena was long gone - as was typical in their fashion, she had left him while he'd slept. Not that it mattered. They would meet again soon enough, if it was the will of the Force.

Obi-Wan stretched out his legs, allowing himself to indulge in the comfortable exorbitance a little. He would use the fresher before returning to the Temple, but at this moment he wanted this time just to think.

_If Anakin had taken the Senator as a lover - did it really matter?_

Anakin had always been so uncommunicative about such things. Even though fraternization was generally frowned upon, it wasn't unknown for Padawans to – experiment – with one another. Obi-Wan himself had known the pleasures of intimacy long before his own Knighthood. Perhaps in this, as in many of the social intricacies of the Jedi Order, it had taken Anakin a bit longer to find his feet. He would rather Anakin's experimentation had taken place with one of his fellow Padawans – at least they understood, and were more likely to refrain from the attachment issue – but for now, he would let it go. There were far more important things to worry about - the impending war being the chief among them – and his apprentice's well being.

His clothes lay neatly on the dresser, just where Ena had told them they would be, and Obi-Wan began to feel restless. The lure of the fresher almost became a siren's song now that his mind was eased a little; suddenly he wanted to get back to the Temple, and to his Padawan.

Slowly and painfully, with Schurke leaning heavily on Kampher's arm, they made their fourth journey up and down the passageway of the Healers ward.

"How do you feel, Schurke?" Kam asked softly. "Can you make another trip or do you need to go back to your bed?"

Schurke grimaced once, and then grinned broadly. "Race you Kam... last on in gets to be on top!"

Kampher rolled her eyes. "Schurke Canaille, if I waited for you to make it over there alone I'd be an old maiden by the time you got there! Now, I'll take that as a 'yes' even if I have to drag you along by your Padawan braid!"

"Can we stop by Toboo's bed, Kam?" Schurke asked suddenly, all playfulness gone now. "I want to see if that pitten is awake yet."

At the mention of Anakin's nickname Kampher tensed, but quickly tried to cover it up. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough and Schurke called her on it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you in a little while," Kam murmured. Suddenly she brightened. "We won't need to go by his bed after all! Look!"

Down at the far end of the passageway, dressed in a Healer's robe with his new arm resting in a sling, was Anakin. Walking beside him and resting easily on his good arm was Senator Amidala. She was dressed more simply than either Kam or Schurke had expected a Senator to be, wearing a simple white shift, with her hair loosely tied behind. They were standing close together, apparently too engaged in conversation to notice anyone else until Schurke put his free hand to his mouth and made a loud but vulgar noise on his hand.

All three looked up at him; Anakin with amusement, Kampher and Amidala with a mixture of mild distain and indignant laughter.

"By the gods!" Shurke cried out joyfully, lurching towards his friend. "Either someone has let gaseous Banthas loose in the Healer's ward or else Anakin Skywalker – also known as the farting menace – is back among the living!"

Anakin gently pulled away from Padmé - who was blushing and giggling furiously despite herself - and took his friend into a rough, one armed embrace.

"_Farting menace?"_ Padmé repeated carefully as if she wasn't exactly sure of what she'd heard.

Schurke pushed Anakin's head under his robes and into a headlock while Kampher stood back, shaking her head.

Ignoring Anakin's grunts of mock frustration and protest, Schurke explained. "We were on a training mission, overnight on Ealor – _Toboo_ here must have overindulged in the Alderaani cabbage the night before..."

"Let me go, you hairy veermok!" Anakin growled from under Schurke's robe. "Or I swear! One night you'll find my Lightsaber jammed so far up your ass that your Master will be able to use you as a glow lamp!"

"Stop it, you two Banthas!" Kampher admonished them gently. "You'll hurt yourselves and I'll be stuck with you until the end of the Republic! Schurke, let Anakin go _now_..."

"Toboo?" Padmé asked in the polite tone of someone who doesn't understand the joke. "Isn't that Gungan for...for..."

Mortified at the unexpected use of the name, Anakin wrestled himself around, now reversing their positions.

"_Youngling,_ yes." Anakin grumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"Anakin's nick-name, Senator," Kampher began.

"I was very young when we all became friends, Padmé," Anakin interrupted Kampher with an edge to his voice. "Schurke seems to think he's funny."

"Only because without me, our beloved friend would take things all too seriously!" Schurke giggled as he pulled free of Anakin's formidable grip. "Hell, I think Anakin is a pure as a snowstorm on Hoth anyway..."

Padmé gasped and giggled, putting her hand daintily over her mouth. Anakin lunged at Schurke again.

"That's it, Canaille!" he growled, trying unsuccessfully to sound menacing over his own laughter. "Let's see if they can replace your..."

With amazing alacrity, Kampher pushed herself between them.

"All right you two, that's enough posturing for now!" she snapped, more than a little irritated. "It's nearly time for last meal. Senator, would you care to join us?"

"Is that permissible?" Padmé asked hopefully. "I mean, I know it's not normal for outsiders to be allowed into the Temple as it is."

"You are here as my guest, Padmé," Anakin murmured, catching her eye in a silent plea. "No one will question why."

"And your presence seems to have a positive effect on my patient," Kampher added firmly, as if to emphasize the point. "Speaking of which, Anakin, are you in any pain? Do you need something before we go?"

Anakin grimaced, but shook his head. "I'll be all right."

She turned to Schurke, who shook his head. "Maybe after..." he mused, and then seemed to have second thoughts. "Perhaps I could use a hover chair though, Kam, it's a bit of a way to the cantina. Anakin, if you want to meet us there, you and the Senator should go on ahead."

Anakin put his hand onto his friend's shoulder, all the teasing and playfulness replaced by concern. "Should we wait with you?"

Schurke waved him off. "Just get us a good place. I think Kam and I can manage." He cast her an unreadable look and Kampher nodded.

"Go on, we'll be there in a minute."

"I'll get us a quiet corner," Anakin said with a little bow. "As long as you're sure you'll be alright."

"We're sure, Toboo," Schurke assured them. "Hurry then... off you go." He gave Anakin a little nudge with his mechanical leg and Anakin feigned a grab for it. What passed for formalities between them now complete, Anakin and Padmé slowly made their way down the passage way and to the cantina, so close together they may as well have been one.

When they were out of earshot, Schurke leaned over to Kampher and whispered in her ear. "Now, will you tell me what's wrong?"

Kampher thinned her lips. "After supper," she said at last. "I'll tell you everything after supper."

Schurke rested his head on her shoulder. "I'm not letting you off that easily, Kam," he murmured softly. "Will you at least tell me what it's about?"

"Master Yoda spoke to me this morning," Kampher sighed resignedly. "He said that something terrible happened to Anakin... and that Anakin would probably not want to discuss it... at least willingly."

"And...?" Schurke pressed.

"He wanted me to... to take it from him..."

Schurke pulled in a hiss of air in disbelief. "No..." He knew that Kampher was especially deft in dealing with human minds; it was part of the thing that made her a gifted healer, but she hated using it her ability on an unwilling subject. She equated it to a form of mental rape. The idea that the venerable Master had even asked...

"I told him I would not," Kampher said miserably. "But then he told me 'think it over you must, young Healer.' Schurke, I just can't – I won't!"

He wrapped his arms around her, as if to shelter his friend from this terrible predicament. Refusing the request of a Jedi Master was bad enough. To refuse the request of the head of the Council...

"Have you spoken to Anakin about this yet, Kam?"

"Of course not!" Kampher cried softly. "How could I?"

"You're his friend first, Kam... his friend..." Schurke assured her, but Kam shook her head.

"I'm a Jedi, Schurke," she sighed. "A Jedi _Healer_..."

Schurke pulled her into a tight embrace before releasing her. "We'll _both _talk to Anakin then," he promised her gently. "After supper – when the Senator has left – after you've done your rounds. It'll be all right Kam, I promise."

"I hope so Schurke," Kampher replied sadly, looking longingly after Anakin and Padmé. "I really hope so. He's been through so much already..."

"And you think there's still more to come don't you Kam," Schurke finished for her. "Not only with the war. It's something else – something elusive – that you're not telling me about."

"I can't, Schurke." Kampher sighed casting her head down. "Not yet anyway..."

Schurke cupped her chin in his hands and brought her face up to meet his own. Slowly and tenderly, he kissed her forehead.

Sometimes words were not enough, nor were they needed.


	8. AAPN8

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 8**

_A weak man has doubts before a decision; a strong man has them afterwards._

**_Karl Kraus_**_** (1781 - 1832)** _

It was his pain, he owned it.

Drew strength from it.

It was not something he was willing to surrender.

Anakin's face darkened as he considered what Kampher had told him. The _Council_ in its infinite wisdom would... would... rape his mind to further its own agenda.

A leaden silence had fallen between them. Anakin glowered at the city skyline, Kampher looked down at her feet and Schurke - casting his eyes back and forth, not knowing how to mend the rift between his friends - felt helpless.

Kampher was the one to break the silence.

"You haven't asked me what my answer was," she said softly.

Reluctantly, Anakin met her eyes. Suddenly he was afraid that within the next instant, nearly ten years of friendship and trust would be torn asunder. He couldn't speak.

"I will not," she said at last.

"Kam," Schurke began but Kampher pressed on.

"I know that it means, going against the Council..." she began almost sadly, then both Schurke and Anakin both interrupted and started talking at once.

"Kam – this could cost you – you could be giving up..."

"What?" Anakin interjected, confused. And then he understood.

_I will not let you give up for future for me..._

"They wouldn't hold this against you," Anakin said slowly. "It's not right."

"Right or wrong Anakin, this really isn't your decision to make," Kampher said simply.

"Then why did you tell me?" Anakin murmured, gently fingering the leaves of a zinthorn flower that had apparently caught his eye.

"Because I thought you needed to know... that you would... _understand_ that sometimes we are asked to do things... that we need to understand everything, or at least as much as we can..."

"You're not making sense, Kam." Shurke grumbled.

"She's making perfect sense to me," Anakin said slowly as he stared out into the sunset. "Perfect sense."

"Care to enlighten me then?" Schurke snapped, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "Between the two of you I have no real idea what's going on – ever!"

"I need to go see someone," Anakin said suddenly, turning to leave. "I have something I need to do."

"You need to speak to Obi-Wan. Anakin," Kampher said gently. "At least you can do that much."

"So he can explain to me why he's..." Anakin snapped, only to be interrupted by the ever-gentle Kampher.

"So he can help you to heal," she said simply.

Anakin looked away, back to the zinthorn flower. "There's someone else who can do that," he said softly. "In fact, if you'll excuse me..."

With that, Anakin turned on his heel and strode purposefully out of the gardens and into the night.

"Master Kenobi!" The young Twi'lek healer, whom Obi-Wan had encountered on the Medi ship, called to him as he entered the Healers ward. "So good of you to come!"

"Where is Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked, looking around, surprised to see the ward nearly empty. "I thought he would be here."

"Senator Amidala came and took Master Skywalker for a walk," the young Healer flicked his lectu lightly, his green skin tinged pink with embarrassment. "He seemed to be in much higher spirits."

"Where did they go?" Asked Obi-Wan with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'd like to see him."

"They went down that hall. I think they were going to share last meal together."

Obi-Wan bowed, and slowly made his way down the passageway.

"Why did you let him go, Kam?" Shurke asked, incredulous. "I mean his arm alone – it's going to be in agony when your Healing magic wears off."

"I made provisions for that already," Kampher told him softly. "He'll be all right."

"And what about you?" Schurke pressed, not to be deterred. "What are you going to tell your Master? The Council, for the love of the Force!"

"The truth." Kam said simply. "That's all I can do."

Schurke rolled his eyes and sighed. "Kam..."

"There's nothing more to be said, Schurke," Kampher said softly as she put a hand on his shoulder. "I've made my choice, and Toboo has made his."

"And the stars will keep spinning till the Galaxy is torn asunder." Schurke finished for her. "Although I'll never understand why you do –or _don't_ do the things you do do!" He laughed a little. "I sound like the latest music holo don't I? _Do – do – do like the gungans do!_" he sang merrily, making Kam laugh with him, despite herself.

"Do we have to _understand_ everything Schurke?" Kam replied gently. "When it comes down to it?"

Schurke shook his head, although he loved his friends dearly, they frustrated him as often as not.

"Please Schurke; it has to be this way." Kampher sighed again. It's not just about Anakin, or what the Council wants. There are times that a person must listen to their heart, and trust in the Force."

"Even if it means..." Schurke couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Leaving the order?" Kam finished for him. "If it comes to that, yes."

"But it won't come to that!" Schurke insisted. "I-I won't let you!"

"I think it's time to take you back to the Healers Ward," Kampher said abruptly. "I need to meet with Master Grigio this evening..."

"Kam..." Schurke began but he didn't know what he wanted to say, and worse, how to say it, but Kampher seemed to understand.

"Afterwards, I'll tell you how things stand," she promised, and with that they made their way back to the Healers ward. Just the two of them.

After a quick stop at his shared quarters with Obi-Wan to find some clothing - a painfully slow endeavor, as he had to dress one handed – Anakin made his way as carefully as he could to the speeder bay. Thankfully, most of his Jedi brethren were engaged in evening mediations, and he was unencumbered.

Only a few minutes later, Anakin reached the parking platform of Padmé's apartment and the Naboo guard on duty gave a stiff salute.

"Good evening, Master Jedi," he said respectfully. "The Senator is expecting you."

_I'm expected?_ Anakin thought, momentarily confused, but he covered it with a well practiced mask of authority. "Well, very good then," he said giving a vague salute in return. It seemed that actually _getting to_ Padmé would be the easy part...

"What do you mean, 'he left?'" Obi-Wan asked Kampher, incredulous. "Is it common practice for Healers to allow their charges to leave at a whim?"

"In my judgment, Jedi Skywalker was fit enough to leave the Healer's ward, Master Kenobi." Kampher's voice was respectful but cool.

"And he went..." Obi-Wan began, only to be met with the young healer's firm and unyielding gaze.

"I assure you, I don't know for sure..."

"But you have an idea," Obi-Wan pressed.

"Master Kenobi, does it really matter?" Kampher sighed. "I'm sure he'll return all in good time."

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh. He knew that the she was holding back, but at this point he didn't wish to fight with the young Healer whom he was beginning to consider almost a friend. At least her heart was in the right place.

"All right," he conceded, running his hand through his hair. "If you happen to find my Padawan, will you please tell him I'd like to see him as soon as possible? I'd like to speak to him about completing his mission."

"Of course Master Kenobi," Kampher replied, her tone and bearing a bit warmer now. "If he returns to the Healer's ward I will send you a message. Now if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to." And with a polite bow, she was off, not waiting for a reply.

Obi-Wan watched as she fairly sauntered down the passageway, wearing her self-assurance and confidence like suit of armor, and wondering why he felt as if it were all an act.

Ignoring the increasing pain in his arm, Anakin straightened his back and stood at Padmé's doorway.

_Why are you so damned nervous, Skywalker?_ he asked himself. _It's not as if..._

Before he could finish his thoughts of self-doubt and castigation, the door flew open and there she stood.

His _Ma-chi_ – his beloved.

His Angel.

Padmé...

"Anakin..." She murmured. From her lips, it sounded like a benediction.

She was wearing a simple blue shift and a light robe, as if she were ready for bed.

Anakin shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet, suddenly very nervous again.

"Come in, Anakin..." Padmé said softly, taking his hand and leading him in to the empty apartment. "I have some tea brewing. Would you like some?"

_Gods, why was she being so formal_?

"Thank you," Anakin replied stiffly. Unsure.

As if responding so some hidden cue, Padmé curled her fingers into his. "I missed you..." she said suddenly. "Did you get my message?"

"Look in my pocket."

With her free hand, she reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out the japor snippet.

"I guess you did," she murmured drawing closer to him. She placed her hand on his chest, causing Anakin to gasp.

"What?" She teased. "Hasn't your Healer friend touched you there?"

"Not like that," Anakin's voice rumbled softly. "Never..."

He gasped unwittingly as his shoulder suffered a fresh spasm.

Padmé grew immediately concerned. "Are you all right?" she asked pulling away slightly. "Do you need to go back to the Healers?"

"You're the _best_ thing for me right now," Anakin told her gently. "If I'm not intruding."

"I'm actually alone tonight," she said primly, drawing close again. "If you can stay, I would be most grateful."

"I can." Anakin replied softly, trying to control the nervous excitement in his voice. "In fact..."

Padmé silenced him with a kiss.

"Come sit," she murmured softly. "I think we have a lot to talk about..."


	9. AAPN9

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 9**

_To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead._

**_Bertrand Russell_****_ (1872 - 1970)_**

Anakin sat carefully down on the small couch, as Padmé went into the small kitchen to get the tea.

"Where are the droids?" Anakin called as he rubbed his shoulder, trying to will away the pain that was growing slightly more intense.

"R-2 is in my office with Threepio," Padmé replied airily as she re-entered the room carrying a tray with a dainty tea set and two mugs and small vial of a purpleish liquid on it.

Anakin eyed the vial suspiciously. "What is that?"

"Your Healer friend gave it to me," Padmé told him without missing a beat. "She said that I might find it useful to have on hand... just in case."

An awkward silence fell between them as Padmé sat down next to Anakin and poured the tea. She was behaving as the perfect hostess, and yet she had made sure they would be alone tonight.

Anakin swallowed hard. Words that had been so neat and simple and perfectly formed in his mind on the way over had fled from him like scattered birds. He felt... helpless.

Padmé rested her hand on his knee, and Anakin jumped and uttered a vulgar oath as his mechanical hand slapped his chest, still restrained by the sling. Padmé pulled away sharply.

"Oh Ani!" She exclaimed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean, does it hurt?"

"No," he lied through gritted teeth. "At least, it's nothing I can't... I'll be all right..."

"Let me get you a hot pack for your shoulder."

"No, please, come sit..." he entreated her softly. The pain had lessened. At least a little. Enough to get through what he wanted to say.

He hoped.

She slowly sat near him again, trembling.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I guess – I was so afraid of losing you – I..."

Suddenly, Anakin reached up and cupped her chin and without another word, brought her lips to his in a tender, but passionate kiss.

Tentative, Padmé moved her hand across his leg and to his hip, drawing him closer as Anakin laced his free hand through her hair, deepening the kiss. Now she too brought her hands to his face, as if she couldn't get enough of him, but all too soon he broke away, his eyes reflecting the pain he would not admit.

"Your arm..." Padmé said softly.

"Isn't bad," Anakin answered back, then winced. "All right, it i_does_/i hurt, a little..."

"You should take that," Padmé admonished him gently. "It will help."

"Padmé..."

"Anakin, I don't want to see you in pain," Padmé sighed as she got up leaving the space between them feeling oddly empty. "I have some shurra fruit juice for it, unless you'd rather have wine?"

"Juice," Anakin said firmly and then as an afterthought he added, "please."

Padmé smiled at him, a smile that seemed to light up the dim room. "We can talk after you take the pain killer, unless your Healer friend has given you..." Here she raised a mischievous eyebrow. "Something else?"

Anakin squirmed uncomfortably as Padmé giggled a little shrilly before disappearing once again into the kitchen.

_Gods, why is she acting like this?_ Anakin thought to himself. _Unless... could she be as nervous as I am?_

Before he could expound on this thought any further, Padmé came gliding back into the room carrying a two wine glasses. Anakin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Yes, the unmistakable aroma of shurra fruit, and a second aroma... Corellian whisky?

"I hope you don't mind if I – indulge myself," she murmured. "I'm – I'm a little nervous..."

"Why?" Asked Anakin, genuinely curious.

"Because... I thought..." Padmé stammered. "Oh Anakin! I just don't know!"

"Don't know?" Anakin replied a little fearfully. "I don't understand!"

"I love you!" Padmé blurted out unceremoniously. "But I'm afraid!"

"Afraid?" Anakin echoed, unsure of what she meant. Was she rejecting him yet again?

Padmé crept over to him and sat down next to him again. She placed both glasses tentatively on the table and allowed Anakin to take her into a careful, one armed embrace.

"I love you," she repeated softly, resting her head on to his shoulder. "And now, when I finally have you to myself, away from assassins and prying eyes..."

"Close your eyes Padmé," Anakin murmured as he stroked her hair. "We don't need to talk, not just yet. We have the whole night, even if it's spent just like this and it's the last one we ever have..."

"Don't say that, Anakin." Padmé admonished him sadly. "I don't want to think about it right now."

"Then we won't," Anakin said decisively as he leaned forward to prepare the infusion in front of him. "We'll just relax here and just 'be' for a while. As long as we're together, everything will be all right, I promise."

Kampher sat in the gardens North Gardens, trying unsuccessfully to meditate. Her meeting with her Master had been brief, and yet...

_I told him no_, Kam thought to herself. _I told him no and all he did was walk away._

She sighed and considered the possibilities. _I could go back to Alderaan, _she thought to herself with a laugh. _That's what I've always told them, just another late initiate from Alderaan...Mother would have been so proud..._

"Padawan," came the gravelly, unmistakable voice of Master Yoda from behind her. "A decision has been reached."

Kampher hung her head, downcast. "I understand, Master Yoda," she said softly, fighting back tears. "I'll just gather my things..." She swallowed hard. Perhaps it was better this way. Not saying goodbye would make it a little easier...

Yoda arched a wizened eyebrow. _Why always think the worse, do the young ?_ he thought to himself. _Exasperating they are, and always have been_. But instead of expressing such thoughts aloud, he did his best to offer a look of what he hoped was reassurance.

"Stay you will," he said at last.

Kampher looked at him wide-eyed in disbelief. "S-s-stay?"

Yoda nodded, but his expression became grave. "Denied for a minimum of one year your Knighthood is, but stay you shall."

Kampher fell to her knees - in relief or disappointment, Yoda could not tell which - and covered her eyes.

"Th-th-thank you, Master..." she whispered.

Yoda tapped her shoulder impatiently with his gimer stick. "Learned nothing from this have you?"

Kampher looked up; her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. "M-m-master?"

"Everything has its costs, Padawan," Yoda told her gently. "Choices you have made."

"I did what I felt was right, Master," Kampher began, on the verge of tears, but Yoda cut her off.

"Forgotten your place you have, young Padawan," he admonished her gently. "However, it matters not. Your discipline has been settled upon, and work still must be done. Patients you have, that need attendance." He cupped her chin gently in one gnarled hand. "Patients you have, young _Healer_ Lutador, above that all else you must remember."

Kampher's brown eyes met Yoda's green ones, and she saw only compassion there.

"Go," he told her gently. "Do as you know you must."

Obi-Wan lay in his bed with his hands clasped behind him. Although he had grown used to the lonely silence in Anakin's absence, it bothered him tonight.

His thoughts drifted back to Ena, and their – for want of a better word – understanding.

_It's different with Anakin_, he thought to himself.  _He has an attachment to the Senator..._

_And this is different how?_

If he was going to be truthful with himself, there was very little difference really. Anakin had sought out companionship outside of the order. Companionship of possibly a sexual nature.

Obi-Wan was not a vain or foolish man. He understood that as sentient beings - as living creatures- sexuality was a part of their very being, and even though he could have easily found simple release with any number of people - Jedi and non Jedi alike – he had returned to a familiar person. His friend...

Of course he didn't expect this to last long. Senator Amidala was after all, first and foremost a politician. Surely she would tire of this little affair – indeed it was probably one of many in a lengthy string – and move on. Anakin would be heartbroken, of course, but such was an invaluable lesson in forming attachments. Indeed, after Anakin's recovery was complete, there was no doubt that they would be sent on a mission far from Coruscant, and by the time they returned Anakin would have hopefully moved on.

Hopefully.

"Lights down."

He rolled over on to his side and closed his eyes. Even though the Healer had pleaded ignorance, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had most likely gone to Amidala. Tomorrow, if Anakin had not returned before morning song he would go and speak to him there and discuss his mission.

Tomorrow.

Even before Kampher entered the Healer's ward - with a considerably lighter step - she could hear the sounds of a mild commotion. Unsurprisingly, it was coming from Schurke's bedside. Before she could intervene, the young Twi'lek healer approached her, completely exasperated.

"Thank the gods you've returned, Mistress Healer" she snapped uncharacteristically. "Padawan Canaille is being most uncooperative."

"Kam?" called Schurke from behind the curtain. "Is that you?"

Kampher dismissed the younger Healer with a slight wave of her hand, and approached Schurke's bedside.

"I'm here, Schurke," she murmured softly. "I'm here."

"Kam," Schurke cried softly throwing his arms around her in a rough embrace. "I was worried."

"Too worried to take your medication, I see," Kam observed sagely.

"You weren't here to tuck me in."

"I had... things... to take care of," she said softly.

"And?" Schurke looked at her, wide eyed with concern.

"Everything's going to be fine," she said simply.

"Everything?" Schurke pressed.

"Everything," Kam said softly. She looked at the vial filled with a familiar purple fluid that sat untouched on the table. "Will you take this now? Or do you need something stronger?"

Schurke grinned. "I'll take it if you promise to stay, no matter how much I act like a nuna on stimpills once your little potion kicks in."

"You'll be safe with me," she reassured him. "Besides, you'll be too sleepy to be much of a bother within 20 minutes."

"So you can take advantage of me then?" Schurke raised an eyebrow, but took the vial and dumped the contents into a glass of shurra juice. "Really Kam, you don't need to sedate me for that!"

Kampher kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I know my friend," she said tenderly. "I know."


	10. AAPN10

**Chapter 10**

_**It is not sex that gives the pleasure, but the lover. ~Marge Piercy**_

In the quiet darkened apartment, Anakin and Padmé had finished their respective drinks and sat together on the largest couch, their arms wrapped lightly around each other.

"Do you feel better, Anakin?" Padmé asked, snuggling closer to him.

"I feel… fine." Anakin said slowly, but he felt – well to honest with himself – more than fine. He felt content. How much of that was to be attributed to Kam's _gift_, as opposed to Padmé's comforting presence, remained to be seen.

"You look tired," Padmé murmured as her hand rested easily on his thigh. "I'm glad you came, though."

Anakin choked back a giggle. _Not yet,_ he bit back, then chastised himself. What by the gods was wrong with him? Less than twenty minutes ago he'd been as nervous as a fen hare, but now…

"Are you all right?" Padmé asked him for what could have been the fourth time in as many minutes. "You seem… distracted."

Without warning, Anakin leaned over and kissed her, his hand lightly tracing down her side and lingering at her breast. Padmé gasped and pulled away.

"I'm sorry!" Anakin cried, shocked at his own forwardness.

"No, it's all right," Padmé gasped. Her chest was heaving, but she didn't pull the cover over it. "I'm the one who should be sorry. It's just that I've… I've never…"

Anakin swallowed hard, and knew he was flushing. His blood was rushing in his ears; he could hear his heart thundering in his chest, and worse, his tongue felt… loose.

"I…. I love you, Padmé," he gasped. "I don't want to live without you, and I'm sorry if I frightened you…"

_Oh Gods, I'm babbling!_ he thought frantically, but Padmé seemed to understand. She leaned toward him and kissed him tenderly.

"And I love you, Anakin Skywalker," she murmured softly, nuzzling his hair and bringing his hand back up to her breast. "I want you to… I want to feel your touch…" She blew softly into his ear.

Anakin placed his lips on her neck, trying desperately to keep his mind focused. The moment he had dreamed about was here. And yet…

Padmé's hand brushed his thigh again, cautious yet eager. It was clear that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but he still sensed hesitation on her part …

_It's just that I've never…_

Reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Never?" he asked, frightened and hopeful all at once.

Padmé shook her head and laughed lightly. "No," she said simply.

Anakin's heart soared.

"Me either," he admitted with a woozy grin. "But if Schurke had had his way…"

Padmé's eyes widened. "You mean, your friend Schurke is…"

"_Liberal_ with his choice of lovers yes," Anakin finished wryly. "Or so he says."

"And you never…"

"Never!" Anakin said adamantly. "But I don't want to talk about Schurke or anyone else right now." Suddenly, he leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes, fighting a wave of dizziness. Concerned, Padmé drew closer again.

"Anakin…"

"I'm fine," he said softly. "But I think a kiss would serve me well, M'lady…"

Padmé was only too happy to oblige. She kissed him once and guided his hand back to her breast. "How long do you have to wear this sling?" she sighed as she gently traced her fingers over the new apparatus and the cloth that held it in place.

"Kam said she'd look at it tomorrow," Anakin told her quietly. "Perhaps it's just as well. Her… the painkiller…"

"Anakin…"

He kissed her again, savoring the taste of her mouth on his lips. Without encouragement, she placed her hand on his thigh again, higher this time, her fingers kneading into the flesh.

Anakin knew that the infusion he had taken for pain had lowered his resolve, and Padmé's own evident desire only made it worse. He was losing control and for once he discovered that he didn't care.

He kissed her throat, and slowly made his way down as Padmé's hand made its way… up.

Carefully, he reached into her gown and gently freed her breast. Padmé gasped but didn't resist; indeed, her hand had at last reached the place where he longed for it to be. Where he had dreamed it would be for so many nights.

Waves of dizziness came crashing through his brain. The drug was fighting with his mounting passion and he was being swept away.

Padmé straddled him now, one hand carefully reaching into his trousers, flesh to flesh. Anakin took her nipple into his mouth and she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her cries. She stroked him, both gently and firmly without experience, but with enough enthusiasm to make up for the lack. She began rocking against his thigh in an instinctive need for her own release.

Reluctantly, he pulled his head back to look at – _both of her_? The world was going grey and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Padmé," he mumbled woozily.

Padmé grew concerned. "Am I doing something wrong?" she asked, and Anakin allowed himself to laugh.

"By all the Gods no!" he giggled. "But… but I… I can't…"

Padmé's eyes wandered to the table and the empty vial, then back to Anakin. "It has a sedating effect?" she wondered aloud. She clung to his manhood like a newly found toy and after a brief hesitation, began her ministrations again, more gently now.

Anakin jerkily nodded his head, which now felt like a load of duracreate. "Yes…" he said slowly, dragging the final 's' sound out like a hiss of air. "You look like … handmaidens…"

He giggled again as his head flopped forward.

"Should I stop?" Padmé asked, reluctance clearly in her voice, but Anakin shook his head clumsily.

"Kiss me," he slurred softly, and she did.

"I love you, Anakin."

"S'is me 'gian…" and she did.

Anakin took a deep breath and drawing on the Force, made a final hard push for lucidity. _Just let me say this_ he thought frantically. _And let her say yes…_

His body was awash with sensation, and with perfect clarity he looked into her eyes and asked her one final question.

"Marry me."

His body exploded, and his mind was filled with light, but whether it was from the physical release or her reply – or perhaps both – he didn't know.

"Yes."

**

It was barely after dawn when Obi-Wan reached the Senate apartments, and everything was quiet. After confirming that Anakin was indeed not in the Healer's ward, he had come down here without hesitation but now, as he stood at the doorway, he began to have second thoughts.

_If Anakin had taken the Senator as a lover - did it really matter?_

He turned on his heel to leave just as the door opened.

"Come in Master Kenobi," Padmé said in a quiet voice. She was dressed in a dark blue, and very modest robe with her hair lied loosely behind. It was also apparent that she hadn't been awake very long.

"Is- is Anakin…" he began, but Padmé put her finger to her lips, silencing him.

_He is here then,_ Obi-Wan thought with a sigh and he drew himself up in an effort to compose himself. He found himself embarrassed at the idea of seeing his Padawan in her bed, but now that he was here…

"He's still asleep," Padmé whispered. "His arm – he was in so much pain last night…"

Obi-Wan thinned his lips, but said nothing as he followed her into the sitting room where to his surprise, Anakin was indeed asleep.

On the couch.

With a blanket on the floor next to him.

Fully dressed.

Padmé crept over and gently placed the blanket back over his prone form. Anakin snorted once, but did not wake. Indeed, he seemed to have settled into a deeper sleep.

_Curious…_

Padmé shook her head. "Can I offer you some tea, Obi-Wan?" she asked politely. "There's a table on the veranda and since Anakin hasn't moved from that place since last night…" She cast Obi-Wan an appraising look, as if challenging him to ask the question.

"All night, you say?" Obi-Wan echoed carefully. "Why did he not return to the Healers if he was in need of treatment, then?"

"The Healer had given me an infusion for pain," Padmé said carefully. "As you can see, it had a strong sedating effect. Neither Anakin nor I knew that at the time…"

Obi-Wan sighed. It was obvious that the Senator was not going to offer any insight on her – _relationship _– with Anakin, perhaps it was time to switch tactics.

"I think I would like some tea, Senator," Obi-Wan said at last. "And perhaps when my Padawan rejoins the land of the living, we can discuss your return to Naboo."


	11. AAPN final

**And All Points North**

**Chapter 11**

**_"Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again after a moment or lifetime is certain for those who are friends."_**

_-- Richard Bach _

Anakin only flinched a little as Kampher deftly poked his shoulder and chest with her experienced hands before pronouncing him fit to travel.

"But I want you to take these with you," Kampher told him adamantly as she handed him a medi bag. "You're not completely healed yet."

Anakin wrinkled his nose as he inspected the contents. Ten small vials of the purple serum that he had taken in Padmé's apartment complimented an assortment of bacta patches and lotions. He pulled one out with his mechanical hand, secretly pleased at the dexterity it offered, and offered it back to the Healer.

"I'll do without this, thank you very much," Anakin told her with a sniff of distain, only to have Kam gently wrap his fingers around it.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's for your own good Anakin Skywalker," she told him firmly. "Besides, it's not _my fault _that you took four doses of the draught in one sitting!"

"There weren't any instructions!" Anakin snapped a little irritably. "Kam, I swear if I didn't know any better…"

Kampher cocked her eyebrow. "You could have used the com and asked."

Anakin colored as his mouth fell open. The last thing he wanted to do was to be cornered into explaining exactly why he hadn't done that very thing.

Kampher turned away, but not before Anakin caught the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I've broken it up into individual and ilighter/i doses," she told him simply, seemingly absorbed in the act of entering information into a data pad. "Any alcohol will heighten the sedation, but if you just allow your body to actually _sleep_, you won't suffer from any lingering after-effects."

_"After-effects?"_

"Very _mild_ after-effects," she countered. "Headache, a little nausea," her eyes twinkled merrily. "Impotence…"

Anakin's eyes widened and he started coughing violently. If it were at all possible, he actually became redder.

Kampher patted his back, restraining a giggle. "Are you all right, Jedi Skywalker?"

"Fine," he choked. "I'll just keep those _after-effects_ in mind – I mean – the headaches and the nausea," he added quickly.

Kampher nodded sagely, and then abruptly changed the subject.

"Schurke wants to see you before you go."

"You mean he's been freed from your healer's clutches?" Anakin smiled. "I thought he would find any excuse to stay."

"He's got a few months of intensive therapy yet, but yes, he was released this morning." Kampher sighed. There was more to her train of thought, that was evident, but Anakin respected his friend enough not to pry, at least too much. Besides, it might have lead to more uncomfortable questioning on_ her_ part.

"I'm leaving this afternoon. Padmé – I mean – Senator Amidala's transport will be escorted to Naboo with the new fleet that's on its way to Malastar," Anakin said proudly. "But our ship will be a smaller vessel, just ourselves and two droids."

"Obi-Wan decided to let you… finish your assignment then," Kam raised an eyebrow. "Alone?"

"Yes," Anakin said simply, then added "He and the Senator both agreed that it would be for the best." He swelled a little with blossoming pride. "He said I deserved the chance to complete my mission." Here he paused, considering. "He didn't seem too concerned about it, either."

"He trusts you to make the right decisions," Kam said quietly.

"I have," Anakin replied softly, then looked up and met Kampher's eyes. "Kam… I know what happened to you."

Kampher became stiff and formal. "I'm sure half the Temple knows by now," she murmured. "I made my choice…"

Anakin placed his hand on her shoulder. "Kam, I'm so sorry …"

"It was right, Anakin," she said simply. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Anakin lowered his head in self-depreciation. For the second time in as many days he was at a loss for words. Kampher, however, seemed to understand. She took his hand and kissed his palm, then rested it on her cheek.

They stayed that way for a few moments until Kam pulled away suddenly.

"Oh Force," she muttered. "I nearly forgot…" She pulled a small vial filled with a yellowish green liquid out of her tunic pocket. "Give this to the Senator," she told him firmly. "Just in case…"

Anakin was confused. "Just in case of what?"

"Call it _insurance_, if you will…"

Realization dawned on Anakin, and once again he colored. He couldn't outright lie to Kampher but by the same token he didn't exactly want to confide in her…

"She should take that as soon as she's able," Kampher said a matter of factly. "Drink the whole bottle no later than an hour before – well – before you leave. It will protect against a _common malady_ of long space flights for up to a month." Her eyes sparkled. "Do I make myself clear, Anakin?"

Anakin nodded, still clearly embarrassed but appreciative. "Yes," he blushed furiously. "Thank you."

"I'm a _Healer_ above all things, Toboo," Kam smiled a little sadly. "Part of my duty is to make sure my patients are protected when they leave my care, even if that protection may seem unorthodox to some."

"Bending the rules is part of being a Healer then, Kam?" Anakin observed. "Even more so than being a Jedi?"

"No," Kampher corrected him gently. "If anything, perhaps understanding when to listen to our hearts, listening to the iForce/i as opposed to blindly following what we are told, is what being a iJedi/i is really all about after all."

Anakin nodded absently, lightly fingering the vial in his hands. His mind briefly flitted back to the night before….the scent of Padmé's hair, the tastes of her lips and the touch of her hand.

Especially the touch of her hand.

He shivered involuntarily, not realizing that Kampher had addressed him.

"Anakin," she murmured softly.

"I'm sorry, Kam," he said, jumping back to attention. "I was just thinking about …just thinking about the mission, that's all."

Kampher nodded. "Of course. But you should go, Toboo. "I think you'll find Schurke down with Healer Sesso having his leg looked at, and then you need to make preparations for your journey to Naboo."

"I think I have everything we'll need right here," Anakin smiled wryly. "Thank you Kam, for _everything _…"

"But of course," Kam smiled at him, then turned and went back to her work.

Anakin found Schurke sitting in his bed, a grim expression of determination on his face as he tried to raise his leg with the Healer's encouragement.

"Higher, Padawan Canaille," the Mirialan healer ordered him gently as Schurke uttered an oath.

"Pretend it's a new position in the Twi'lek guide to interspecies love making," Anakin said wryly, leaning against the doorway. "Lean forward and I'm sure you could kiss your own…"

"Toboo!" Schurke cried gleefully from his bed as his leg came sailing down. Thankfully, the Healer had the presence of mind to catch it.

Shurke grinned at her. "Well done my dear! You know, Toboo, Healer Sesso seems to be quite good with her hands! Now if only…"

The Healer let his leg drop to the bedside with a soft thump. "That will be all today, Padawan Canaille," she said briskly. "I'll see you tomorrow at the same time." And with a prim little bow, she was off.

Anakin rolled his eyes, but his shoulders were shaking with muffled laughter. "Gods, Schurke," Anakin groaned in mock indignation. "Is there not one Jedi in the entire Order that you haven't at least itried /i to bed yet?"

"Only those that aren't already spoken for," Schurke replied with an arched eyebrow.

"You mean…"

"No, no one…" Schurke turned away, suddenly embarrassed.

A silence fell between them, as thick as secrets.

"Kam," Anakin said at last.

"…is leaving in two weeks," Schurke retorted a little sharply. "She's joining the Medi fleet."

"She told you this?" Anakin asked, incredulous. _Why didn't she say anything to me?_

"No." The word was a lead weight. "She didn't tell me, either."

"Then how…"

"I have a lot of time," Schurke said quietly. "I've been reading the logs."

Anakin considered this, both the news and Schurke's reaction to it, and then choosing his words carefully, he addressed his friend.

"Tell her how you feel about her," he said simply. "Tell her before she goes."

Schurke looked down at the bedcovers, and began picking at a ball of lint. He held it up to his eyes, studying it as if it held all the secrets to the universe.

"And if I can't…" he said absently.

"Why not?"

"She belongs to someone else, Anakin."

"Kam belongs to _herself_ Schurke," Anakin retorted a little angrily. "You're looking for excuses!"

"I'll think about it," Shurke replied quietly as Anakin rested his right hand on Schurke's shoulder.

"Promise?" Anakin asked as he gave a gentle squeeze. "I mean it Schurke; there are just some things…"

_Yes there are Toboo_, Schurke thought to himself with an inner smile. _Things you're not telling me – something's changed, but what?_

Schurke didn't voice such a concern aloud, but instead clasped Anakin's metal hand in his own in acknowledgement. Without another word, the two friends parted.

_Be safe Toboo_, thought Schurke to himself as he watched Anakin practically float out of the Medi bay. _Come home and tell us stories… Who knows, perhaps the next time we meet, I might have one or two of my own…_

_"There is a destiny which makes us brothers;  
None goes his way alone."  
-- Edwin Markham_


End file.
